


it felt like Christmas time.

by kissedbylightning



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Alex Albon Protection Squad, Angst, Christmas, Fluff, Gen, George is Alex's biggest cheerleader and supporter, Hurt/Comfort, Red Bull sucks, end of 2020 season, just two dudes who love each other dearly, what's better than pals being pals?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:21:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28496736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kissedbylightning/pseuds/kissedbylightning
Summary: Alex finishes the 2020 season on a bit of a downward slump, ending up stuck in a hotel for 10 days. Unable to spend Christmas with his family, he drives home on Christmas Eve accompanied only by his thoughts. When he arrives back home he encounters a surprise.
Relationships: Alexander Albon & George Russell
Comments: 8
Kudos: 31





	it felt like Christmas time.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [saftey_car23](https://archiveofourown.org/users/saftey_car23/gifts).



> I wrote this for the DailyF1 Discord Secret Santa for Ahana, sorry it's a little late!
> 
> I have written something that is Alex and George shaped and Christmas themed! It's a little sad to begin with but I promise that it does have a happy ending! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy it and I hope you had a wonderful Christmas and that you have started your New Year with good vibes. 
> 
> Usual disclaimers apply: this is just a harmless piece of fiction, nothing is real, everything is in my head.

The year had been tough. As if the uncertainty and isolation of the pandemic wasn’t bad enough, it was one of the most important years in Alex’s career. His sophomore year. A year to prove that he had settled in; that he could match up to his teammate to help elevate the team to higher heights and better fortune than they had seen in recent times. 

Despite his best efforts to wrangle a difficult car around Europe and the Middle East it hadn’t quite worked out. After five months of being questioned and harassed by the media about his future he was exhausted. By the time Abu Dhabi had rolled around he just wanted to go out one last time and try to salvage something from his rollercoaster of a year, to go out on a high. Instead he had finished fourth. It wasn’t the worst result he could have had but also not exactly the show stopping result he needed. 

All he had wanted to do was go home. He ached and longed to be surrounded by his family; long-distance phone calls and video chats were no substitute for a kitchen full of warm laughter, a living room full of friendly faces or even fighting over who got to pick the film. 

Unfortunately, his schedule had other ideas, and the not-so-glamorous side of corporate sponsors and media obligations reared its ugly head. Despite not knowing if he had done enough to secure his seat for next season, Alex had spent two days after the race in a haze of interviews, filming content, and hushed phone calls with his manager. 

He had managed to steal fragments of time to himself here and there; praying for time to move faster, hoping he would soon be able to rest, wishing he could just curl up and lie still for a while. Instead, he was playing his part, grinning until his cheeks hurt, diplomatically answering the difficult questions about next season, biting his tongue and clamping down his true feelings. 

By the time Alex had finally reached the airport he ached. He ached to go home. His body ached from a compact and intense season. His mind ached from the stress and the pressure and all of the things he could never speak about. He had gotten through airport security in a daze - barely aware of where he was or what he was doing, just going through the motions. He had barely registered the way some of the passers by looked at him with faint recognition. He was barely there, in his mind he was halfway across the world. 

When he had finally reached the departure lounge he had flopped onto the nearest seat he could find, letting the rush of the airport wash over him, sinking further into his mind. Naturally, of course, his flight home had been delayed a few hours and he had spent half of this time pacing the terminal and staring at the floor. When he finally boarded the plane, he had fallen asleep before they had even started pulling down the runway. He had managed to sleep for the majority of the journey, waking up just as they were starting to make their landing. 

He had drowsily disembarked pulling his mask on and navigated his way towards the queue at passport control. Passport control at Heathrow was a liminal space, and all Alex could do was stare blankly at his fellow passengers, minutes feeling like hours in the harsh fluorescence bouncing off of beige walls. He always found passport control similar to the weigh bridge. The same sense of anxiety swirled in his stomach. That unshakeable feeling of being watched. A barrier between where he was and where he wanted to be. Held in a waiting pattern. 

After what had felt like hours he finally passed through passport control with ease, the digital scanner playing ball for once. He had been lucky when he reached baggage claim, his suitcase was one of the first on the carousel and he had all but cheered with joy at the thought of being able to escape the oppressive airport. One step closer to being home. 

In his desperation to leave Abu Dhabi and the season behind, Alex had almost forgotten that he wasn’t going home. Reality hit him as he strolled through customs and out into the terminal. There were no smiling faces ready to greet him, no signs they had spent days perfecting, no outstretched arms to fall into. Instead he was confronted with an eerie sight, the shiny floor and white walls stretched out infinitely like a ghost town, fellow passengers and the odd employee glided through like ghosts. 

Alex sighed as he wandered out of the gate, towards the exit. Since he had stayed in Abu Dhabi for longer than he should have, his government mandated quarantine period would finish on Christmas Eve. There was no way he would be able to quarantine with his family, nor would he want to run the risk of getting them sick. So, when his schedule had been worked out, and after numerous conversations with his Mum, he had decided to check into a hotel for the ten day quarantine period. 

Nothing about the run up to Christmas had been normal for Alex, save the bitter chill of English weather in December. In all of the uncertainty, the sharp weather had served as a welcome wake up call, a jolt of home shocking his spine, even if he wasn’t quite home yet. It was close enough, and close enough was just going to have to do. 

He had checked into a hotel near to the airport, where he spent the next ten days getting acquainted with the room service menu and every little corridor and hall the hotel had to offer. He spent most of the time sleeping, catching up after all the anxiety-fuelled sleepless nights agonising over every little mistake he had made in a race, over every little comment made by the media, over every little interaction he had with the team. He felt as if he had spent the last four months fuelled by adrenaline, running at full speed up a cliff. Now he was at the edge, the cliff giving way beneath him, plummeting him towards the ground. He had reached the inevitable crash. 

His bones were heavy, laden with fears of his future. His mind was weary, burdened by his mistakes. He couldn’t do anything so he had decided to lean in as the exhaustion swept him up. When he wasn’t sleeping or eating, he was spending snippets of time talking to his friends and family - putting on a brave face, trying to ease their minds. Sometimes he pretended to be asleep or busy with a meeting so he didn’t have to face them, unable to fake it, unwilling to pretend for the day. 

The only person who was reluctant to accept Alex’s pretences was George. He refused to let Alex ignore his calls or texts. He would text and then immediately call Alex, leading Alex to accidentally answer the phone on multiple occasions. George would always let Alex avoid all the important topics for a while before somehow engineering it back to what Alex was avoiding. Alex hated when the younger man did that, how he always knew exactly what Alex really wanted to talk about. They had been friends for too long and had been through far too much together to keep up pretences.

Alex was stuck in limbo, the hotel room doubling as a waiting room. Waiting for his future to be revealed. Waiting to go home. Waiting for someone to wake him up from whatever walking nightmare this year had become. He had become accustomed to waiting: waiting for his chance; waiting for a decision; waiting for progress. This time felt different, the usual excitement and anticipation was replaced with dread - thick like concrete. He couldn’t quite shake the feeling that everything was about to change. 

Sure enough, four days into his quarantine his world was sent into a tailspin. After months of reassurance, weeks of meetings and negotiations his future was finally set. All it had taken was one Zoom meeting with Christian and Helmut for his world to unravel. The two of them were not ones to mince their words, plainly and simply he didn’t cut it. He should be grateful after all, they weren’t completely dropping him, just re-assigning him again. Another card in the deck to be reshuffled. 

He had finished the meeting with a heavy heart. He wasn’t an idiot, he wasn’t completely blindsided by the decision. He knew that there were opportunities missed throughout the year. He knew he had issues he did not yet have the words to process or explain. He knew he hadn’t coped the way he should have, allowing the pressure, the comments, the uncertainty to grind him down into a mess of bones and anxieties. It was a slap in the face later that day when they announced that Sergio had already been signed as his replacement. Yet another reminder of how brutal the sport he loved could be. 

He had spent the next few days in a state of hopelessness, overwhelmed by the notifications blowing up his phone, bone crushingly sad at the way his year was ending. He turned his phone on silent and left it halfway across the room, which seemed to do the trick. That is until George called the hotel, worried about him and got patched through to an exasperated Alex. 

This time Alex didn’t bother to try and mask his feelings. He shouted and swore and cried at George, utterly defeated and deflated, unable to hold anything back from his friend. George just absorbed it all, listening attentively, allowing Alex to get it all out - to start the grieving and healing process. When Alex had grown quiet, exhausted from his emotions, George had simply reminded him of all of the ways that he was loved and the things he had accomplished. 

Somehow Alex always found it easier to accept George’s compliments and kind words, his friend always knowing exactly the right thing to say, his calm voice wrapping each word in love and support, like lullabies. Alex and George had soothed each other’s wounds many times before, always sticking beside each other like brothers in arms. It had been them against the world for fifteen years and nothing was about to change that now. 

The remaining days passed in a fit of restlessness. The beige hotel walls finally started to get to him. The ache of missing home and family seeping into his pores and threatening to drag him down. He slept, he ate, he entertained his family over the phone, he wandered the corridors of the hotel - rinse and repeat. He repeated this routine until it felt like the walls were staring back at him, almost mocking him, watching him as he wallowed and leaned into his despair. Until, finally, it was over and he was ready to leave. 

Now here he was, ten days of quarantine completed, sitting in his car on the M25. Stuck in the typical Christmas Eve traffic - staring at the rows of red brake lights dotting the motorway stretched out in front of him. The black sky above was interrupted by the yellow glow of the lamp posts. Alex stretched slightly in his seat, looking out of the window to see the nearest town’s lights twinkling orange and white, an inviting glow. He sighed wistfully and closed his eyes, casting his mind back to the Christmas before and all of the excitement and anticipation it held. Seeing the faces of his mother and siblings smiling back at him as they danced around the kitchen to Christmas songs, excited for what 2020 might have in store for them, warm with love and giddy from the festivities. 

He rubbed a weary hand over his forehead. This Christmas was not going to be the same. He couldn’t even go home to his family, with the government changing advice and guidelines. They had decided it would be better if he went back to his own place in Milton Keynes, not willing to risk Alex getting sick before a new season. 

Alex sighed again, opening his eyes, with what he knew now he might as well have gone home to this family. Instead he would be sitting in a house he had barely spent time in all year, no Christmas decorations on display, no warm laughter filling up the kitchen. Just Alex, his thoughts and his phone blowing up with notifications - friends and family trying to help cheer him up. 

The line of cars in front of him started to slowly crawl forward and Alex dropped the handbrake and put his car in gear to follow them. They slowly crawled forward for a few minutes before coming to a standstill again. Somewhere behind Alex a driver had misjudged how much further they could move forward and an explosion of horns punctuated the still evening. 

Alex’s phone started ringing, syncing up with his dash, he checked the caller ID and saw it was his Mum. He rubbed his temples and then accepted the call. 

“Hi Mum.”

“Hi honey, just checking in to see how your journey back is going?” His Mum’s voice echoed throughout the car, it was warm and familiar but she was barely concealing her concern. 

“Yeah, it’s going okay. Just stuck in traffic at the moment. Hey, I thought people weren’t supposed to be travelling unless they had to?” The question was half rhetorical, he knew that people would be as desperate as he was to go home. 

“Well you know, it’s the holidays! Everyone wants to be home with their families….” She trailed off as she realised what she was saying. Alex stayed quiet, trying not to think about how lonely he already felt at the prospect of spending Christmas in an empty home. 

“Are you okay Alex?” 

“Yeah Mum, I’ll be fine.” 

They sat in silence for a few moments, Alex trying hard not to think about how they would usually be piled around in front of some Christmas film they’ve seen entirely too many times. Chattering through it as they ate and laughed. His mother was silent as she tried hard to think about what to say next, not wanting to give anything away. She was concerned about Alex, especially after this week, and the idea of him spending Christmas alone was unbearable to her. 

“Hey Alex?” She decided to break the silence. 

“Mhmm, yeah Mum?”

“I love you.” 

Alex gritted his teeth to stop the tears that threatened to spill down his face. He took a deep breath. 

“I love you too Mum.” He managed to force it out. 

“Drive safe. Let us know when you get home.” 

He managed to mumble out an okay before he hung up the line and the tears started to fall from his eyes. He couldn’t help but feel despair at his situation. He felt pathetic, after all he still had a job - it just wasn’t  _ the  _ job he had fought so hard to get. 

A tear stung his cheek as it dropped, hot and fiery, his mind racing.  _ You are no longer our second driver _ . The words still echoed in his head. After all of his hard work and efforts he had simply not cut it. Never mind the two podiums he had managed to salvage, or the fact that he was driving a completely different car for half of the season. He felt hopeless and lost. 

He had no doubt that mistakes had been made this past year. He knew what he was getting into when he returned to Red Bull, he had seen the way they had discarded Pierre. He had been tossed out himself before they turned to him like a knight in shining armour, ready to save the day. 

He turned on the radio, desperate for something to distract him from overthinking himself into oblivion. He was confronted by trumpets and joyful guitars, warm vocals extolling the joys of Christmas with loved ones. He looked around at the cars around him, packed in like sardines on the motorway, everyone trying to get somewhere. He nodded in solidarity at the few solo travellers he could spot in amongst the cars packed full with presents and families. 

He watched as the children in the car beside him did their best to annoy their parents; sticking tongues out at other cars; play fighting in the backseat; yelping with joy as their parents tried to distract them by turning on their favourite Christmas songs. Soon their music was mingling with Alex’s. A mess of joyful noises, drowning out Alex’s thoughts. 

The cars ahead started to move again. A domino effect of cars slowly firing back up, handbrakes off, gears engaged, rolling forwards. This time they seemed to have cleared whatever had been causing all of the traffic and the cars started filing past, faster now as the congested lanes were unblocked, speed limits reset back to normal. Alex breathed a sigh of relief, as he sped out of the holding pattern they were in, feeling less claustrophobic now he had some space in lanes surrounding him, stretching out in front of the cars behind him. 

The low hum of the engine and the music spilling out of his radio were doing the trick of keeping Alex’s thoughts at bay, focusing instead on the open road in front of him. He still had half an hour before he would reach his house, a soft place to land, something a little more his than the anonymous hotel rooms he had been calling home over the past month. Something like home. Like home but not quite. Would it be possible for anything to feel like home this year? 

He sped past lit up towns, his thoughts flying to the backseat as he went, glowing lamp posts thinning out into long stretches of darkness, his headlights illuminating the way. He was making good time now the traffic had all but evaporated, everyone had filed off towards other towns, leaving him one of a small number of cars on the road. His exhaustion gave way to the peace and serenity he felt when he drove, focusing on nothing but the open road ahead and the feel of the car underneath him. 

Alex reached another patch of lamp posts as they neared another town, slowing down slightly as he encountered a smattering of cars on the road ahead. The orange glow from above seeping into the car, the dash coated in a fiery glow. Alex’s mind wandered again to late nights spent around the fire, playing board games with his siblings, collapsing into a heap of giggles as someone inevitably said something silly. He sighed, willing for the patch of traffic ahead to clear so he could throw himself onto his bed and disappear for the evening. 

His ringing phone jolted him out of his thoughts, he panicked, staring at the dash for a few moments to register who was calling him. A name flashed on the screen.  _ George.  _ He sharply exhaled, as his jittery fingers fumbled for the accept button on his steering wheel. 

“You alright, mate?” George’s low voice filled the car, replacing the background noise of the radio. 

“Yeah.” Alex answered quickly, his hands still a little shaky from the shock of the call. 

“Liar.” George scoffed, he knew Alex too well and the other man knew that. “How’s the journey going?” 

Alex rolled his eyes, sometimes he wished he wasn’t so transparent to George. “It’s going, not much longer now.” 

“That’s good, mate!” George paused for a second to see if Alex was going to try and continue the conversation, his friend was evidently not in the mood for conversation tonight. “Listen, I don’t know what to have for dinner-” 

“George! Did you seriously just phone me to ask me to pick what you’re having for dinner?” Alex rolled his eyes and allowed himself to smile, it was a wonder either of them could actually survive on their own. George’s laughter warmed Alex’s icy exterior. 

“Yeah I did!” 

“What are your options George?” Alex pretended to be exasperated, thankful for the opportunity to be distracted from whatever darkness was creeping into his head. 

“Okay so I could have a very festive pizza, Chinese or Indian. Which do you want?” Alex shook his head, of course George wasn’t going to actually cook anything. 

“Don’t know what you’re asking me for you weirdo. But if I  _ have  _ to choose then I’d say go for a festive pizza.” Alex heard George on the other end of the phone cheer, he had obviously chosen the right option. “But for the love of god, please do not ask me to pick what kind of pizza you are getting. I assume you are able to, at the age of 22, make that decision for yourself?” 

George erupted into laughter on the other end of the phone, a contagious laugh that had Alex splitting his sides within moments, trying hard to focus on the road stretched out in front of him. 

George was the first one to speak once they had both composed themselves. “Yeah mate, I think I can manage that decision.” 

“Are you sure? You did just call me to ask what you should have for dinner. Do you want me to hold your hand while you order it as well?” Alex’s voice was dripping in sarcasm, gently mocking his friend, allowing himself to join in on the phone. George always knew how to pull him out of his slump. 

“Ah-ha! It worked!” George exclaimed, sounding pretty pleased with himself. 

“What worked?” Alex had a feeling he knew the answer but asked the question anyway. 

“I cheered you up! My job here is done!” 

“Alright, mate. You win, I give up.” Alex laughed softly to himself, hoping that George would stay on the line. Knowing that the moment the conversation ended he would be alone with his thoughts and the open road. 

“As you should! Listen, I’ve got to go and get this ordered. You drive safe!” 

“Thanks, mate. I’ll let you know when I get back.” 

George hung up the phone in a hurry, leaving Alex left to continue driving alone. He was getting closer now, the signs for Milton Keynes appearing just up the road, leading to one of many roundabouts he needed to navigate. 

His mind wandered, thinking about the past year again. This time thinking about George. The support he felt from his friend every time the season had threatened to break him. The way George had stood in front of everyone on live TV to defend him, calling the team out, daring to allude to their conversations behind closed doors. Alex had been rendered speechless, in awe of George’s courage and support. They had braved far worse when they were younger, but never so publicly. Their friendship had deepened that day, they were brothers in arms, the two of them against the world.

Alex drove around the last roundabout, turning down the maze of roads that led to his house. He drove down one road, lined with houses lit up with decorations. He passed artificial reds, blues and greens dotting the exteriors; some bolder houses sporting inflatable penguins and Father Christmases; everyone seemingly competing to prove they had the most Christmas spirit. Alex’s heart ached as he turned down a similar road, boasting even more spectacle, the lights seemed to shine brighter, one house had decided to empty the entire catalogue of Christmas decorations on the front lawn. 

He tried not to think about what it all meant, trying to ignore the date on the dash. He turned onto his street, soundtracked by the guitars and mournful vocals of one of the sadder Christmas songs - a fitting selection to accompany him back to an empty house, void of Christmas spirit. His street was slightly more muted than the surrounding streets, a sprinkling of decorations here and there, a warm glow adorning the street. 

Alex drove further down the road until he reached his house, stopping outside and parking on the street. He turned off the engine and sat in his car for a moment in the darkness, collecting his thoughts, trying to muster up the energy to deal with the empty house. He rubbed his temples and took a deep breath, before grabbing his bag from the passenger seat and opening his door. 

The sharp chill of the night stung him as he stepped out of the car and ambled his way to the boot of the car to get his suitcase. He rooted around the boot, trying to juggle his bags and suitcases. Lost in thought he almost didn’t register a voice reaching out through the dark. Someone was calling his name, he was so startled he nearly banged his head on the top of the boot. 

“Alex!” 

He whipped his head around, startled at hearing his name. He hadn’t even registered who the voice belonged to. He saw a tall figure strolling towards him, the darkness obscuring their identity. His breath hitched as he saw who it was, taking in the tall slender frame of his friend. He froze to the spot, eyes blinking, as he tried to figure out whether his exhaustion had started to produce hallucinations or if George was somehow really here. 

George got closer, a grin plastered on his face, watching as Alex looked at him shocked. Alex’s face softened as George stopped in front of him and waved. His mouth opened and closed, unsure of what to say. 

“Hi Alex, surprised to see me?” 

Alex nodded, still unable to process what was happening or bring himself to say anything to his friend. 

George stepped closer to Alex, his arms slightly outstretched, as he saw the exhaustion and emotion sweep across his friend’s face. Alex stared at his friend’s soft expression; full of worry, of care and bursting with love. Alex felt himself starting to crumple, all of the emotions he had been feeling bubbling back up to the surface, overwhelmed at the appearance of his oldest friend. 

Alex practically fell into George’s arms, allowing his head to rest on the younger man’s shoulder. Strong arms enveloped him into a hug as he took a deep breath, his own arms reaching around and resting on George’s back. They stood there in a warm embrace, Alex tuning into the comforting sound of his best friend’s breathing; feeling safe and secure in his arms. 

Alex felt the familiar pricks of tears forming in the corner of his eyes and blinked them away, swallowing down the volcano of emotions threatening to overwhelm him. He breathed in George’s familiar scent, something about it feeling like home. Reminding him of late night sleepovers as kids; of road trips to karting tracks; of giddy, jet lagged conversations in hotel rooms. Just Alex and George, as it had been since they first met all those years ago. 

George patted Alex’s back and broke away from the hug, giving his shoulder a little reassuring squeeze as he did. 

“Hey Alex.” 

“Hi George.” 

They stood there for a moment, George’s hand on Alex’s shoulder, the two of them looking at each other. Alex was still marvelling at George being there, grateful that the younger man was in his life. After a moment George dropped his hand from Alex’s shoulder and leaned down to the car boot, grabbing the handle of one of the suitcases and lifting it out of the car, setting it down on the pavement beside him. Before Alex had time to turn around and grab the other suitcase, George had already rescued it from the car and the two cases were resting on the pavement. 

Alex closed the car boot and picked up his bag from where it was resting by his feet. He locked the car with a click of his keys and stared back at George again, it had only been ten days since they last saw each other but the way time had been stretching and folding in on itself for Alex made it seem like so much longer. Now they were reunited again and Alex found himself trying to study George’s face, still in shock that he was actually there, wondering what had made him come. Searching the other man’s face for any clues, only able to find love and warmth emanating from his eyes and his smile. 

“Shall we go inside? It’s pretty cold out tonight.” 

George suggested, noticing the way that Alex was shivering without a coat, eager for his friend to get inside to the warmth of the house. Alex nodded, finally noticing how cold it was now that he wasn’t wrapped close to George’s body. He shouldered his bag, as George took the handles of the suitcases, the two of them wandering across the pavement to the pathway leading to Alex’s house. 

They walked with George a few steps in front, leading the way to the stone pathway, Alex barely paying attention as he walked in a tired daze. Alex followed George through his front garden, barely registering the house as he walked, his focus on just getting inside. 

His eyes fell to the grass in front of his house, expecting to see it overgrown and dishevelled with no one here to keep it tidy. He was surprised to see that it looked like it had been cut fairly recently. He looked up and noticed that George was already at the front door. His eyes scanned across the exterior of his house and he stopped with a start, his hand clamping to his mouth. 

He had expected to see the bare red brick of the house staring back at him, void of any trace of Christmas or life. But instead, he was met by the soft glow of decorations, lighting up the exterior. A trail of fairy lights framed the porch and crept up the front of the house resting under the upstairs windows; icicles glowing a warm white, enticing him to enter. He noticed a wreath hanging on the knocker of his door, lush greens and deep reds interwoven around a sign reading Merry Christmas. 

He didn’t know what to think or say, he was dumbstruck. It was a far cry from the lonely and depressing Christmas he had envisioned while he was stuck in the hotel. He stood there taking it all in, noticing new details every time. Spotting the little snowflake transfers decorating the edges of the upstairs windows. Noticing the Christmas tree made of lights stood under the porch. 

George stood on the doorstep grinning at him, the door held open, suitcases already inside the hallway. He was taking in the sight of his friend’s wonder, happy to see Alex enjoying the surprise. Knowing that there was more to come.

“Are you coming in, mate? You’re letting all the heat out!” 

Alex snapped out of his amazement and wandered the last few steps to his front door. Alex crossed the threshold, dropping his bag to the floor, before turning to shut the door behind him. George had already made his way into the living room by the time Alex had entered the house. Alex stood in the hallway for a moment, taking in the sight of festive decorations adorning the walls, breathing in the smell of cranberries and pine needles. 

He wandered into the living room to join George after a few moments of drinking in the sight of his decorated house. He spotted George perched on the edge of the couch, pizza covering the top of the coffee table in front of him - Alex’s favourite toppings perched on top. Alex laughed, casting his mind back to their conversation in the car. No wonder George wanted his input on what to have for dinner. George turned around to him grinning and pointing to the spread of food on the coffee table. 

“See, told you I had no problem choosing the type of pizza!” George was mightily pleased with himself, enjoying the way Alex’s tired eyes had been lighting up since they started walking towards the house. Alex just stood there smiling, seemingly unable to process much more. 

He walked over to the couch and sat down beside a grinning George, who had already plated up a few slices of pizza for Alex, offering the plate up to him. Alex accepted the plate from George, slightly mesmerised at the effort his friend had gone to make him feel more at home. 

Before he could sit back and enjoy the pizza, he caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of his eye. He turned on the couch to see what he had caught in his peripheral vision, nearly dropping his plate in the process, George’s lightning fast reflexes coming in handy as he caught the plate just in time. 

Alex’s jaw dropped as he saw the Christmas tree in the corner of the living room. It stood proud, laden with ornaments and decorations - red and gold baubles spread across the pine needles. Warm white bulbs hooping their way around the tree, nestled in the branches. A star standing proud atop the tree, glowing in the soft lighting, reflecting the glow that Alex was feeling. His gaze dropped to the bottom of the tree, where he spotted a small pile of presents making a home for themselves under the bottom branches. 

This time the tears that pricked his eyes were not to be held at bay and Alex’s emotions overcame him. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his thighs and allowed the sobs to wash over him, tears streaming down his face as all of the sadness and loneliness mixed with the gratitude and love he currently felt. George put the plate back on the coffee table and placed a gentle hand on his friend’s back, drawing circles as Alex quietly sobbed into his hands. 

Alex cried for what felt like hours. George had collected Alex into a hug on the sofa, allowing his friend to cry into his shoulder, supporting his weight, trying to absorb all of the hurt and pain of the past six months. He wanted nothing more than to take some of the pressure away. He wanted to help Alex feel light again, like he had done so many times before. George cooed softly into Alex’s ears and hair, repeating barely audible words, following the pattern of his tears, as he tried to help calm his friend. 

Even after Alex had stopped crying he stayed buried in George’s shoulder, enjoying the warmth and comfort it afforded him. After a few more moments he lifted his head and sat back, looking into George’s blue eyes, calmly staring back at him. A question formed on Alex’s lips, but he was sure he already knew the answer. 

“Did you do all of this?”

George smiled softly at the question before answering. “I had some help, just didn’t want you to be alone on Christmas.” 

Alex didn’t quite know what to say or how to respond. He was blown away by his friends efforts, spellbound by the time and thought that George had put into it all - slightly ashamed he had allowed himself to wallow in the idea that he would be alone on Christmas. Of course he would never be alone, as long as George was still in his life. 

“Merry Christmas Alex.” George almost whispered the phrase, its melody sinking into Alex’s ears and making him feel giddy.  _ Merry Christmas _ , maybe it would be after all. 

“Merry Christmas George.” Alex barely managed to choke out a response, his feelings continuing to swell inside of him, threatening to erupt once again. Alex’s heart was full. Full of gratitude, full of love, and full of joy. He found that his festive spirit was renewed and the look on George’s face said that Alex was not going to be spending Christmas alone after all. 

Staring back into George’s eyes, Alex couldn’t help but think he was home. Finally, it felt like Christmas time. 


End file.
